You had been driving along quietly in your car, running errands. Stopping at the stop sign, you failed to notice the car that was speeding behind you. While your head was turned, the car behind you rear ended you and pushed you into the intersection. The front end of your car hit an oncoming car from the left and your car ended up plowing into a telephone poll. By this point, your vision was fading and a warm liquid ran down the side of your face. Moving your hand up, you touched the warm liquid an examined it. At the sight of blood, your gaze went into tunnel vision and everything grew black with the screaming of bystanders echoing in the background.

Meanwhile, at Camp Nou, your boyfriend was joking around with his best friend, Marc Bartra during a break in training. The two walked into the locker room to grab their extra shirts, due to the fact the other ones were thoroughly soaked with sweat and the coaches were starting to complain. Opening his locker, Sergi laughed at Marc's comment as he pulled out his extra shirt. While he changed, a buzzing noise alerted him to his phone.

An incoming call from an unknown number. Hesitantly, Sergi answered the call. "Hello?"

"Yes, is this Mr. Sergi Roberto?" a woman from the other side asked.

"Yes, can I help you?" Sergi replied, confused.

"Do you know Ms. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"

"Yes, she's my girlfriend. Why? Is something wrong?"

"(Y/N) was in a car crash and is currently at Barcelona Central Hospital. You are her emergency contact," the woman replied. Sergi almost dropped the phone.

"I'll be there right away," he replied before hanging up. He immediately sprinted out of the locker room, towards the coaching staff. "I need to leave, right now."

"You better have a good reason—"

"—my girlfriend was in a car crash and I need to know if she's okay!" Sergi stated. The coaches nodded and waved him off. As Sergi sprinted away, his teammates watched his retreating figure with anxious stares. Hopping into his car, Sergi rushed to the hospital and ran into the building. "I need to see my girlfriend, she was in a car crash!" Sergi told the woman at the front desk. The middle aged woman looked up at him lazily and asked for your name. After what seemed like three days, the woman gave Sergi a pass with your room number on it. Frantically running through the hospital, Sergi finally made it into the ICU.

A secretary asked to see his pass and led him to your room. The sight broke his heart. The secretary left and Sergi closed the door quietly. Your head was bandaged. Bruises dotted your face. Walking over, Sergi stared down at your weakened form sadly. You were hooked up to oxygen and an IV, along with numerous other tubes that were moving in and out of you. One of your arms was in a soft cast and your left leg was propped. An elderly man walked into the room, musing over his clipboard. Looking up, the doctor noticed Sergi's presence.

"I'm Dr. Garcia, I'm (Y/N)'s caregiver. And you are?"

"Sergi Roberto, her boyfriend," Sergi replied, turning his gaze back to you.

"I was told you would be coming. Here's a list of her injuries and the police report if you would like to read that over as well. If you have any questions, let me know," Dr. Garcia stated before walking quietly out the door. Pulling up a chair to your bedside, Sergi read over the police report first. A drunk driver, who was also in the ICU but in a different hospital, had rammed into the back of your car, moving you forward. An oncoming car hit you and you ended up hitting a telephone pole. Sighing, Sergi read over your injuries the doctor had outlined.

You had a concussion, a cracked left forearm, lacerations on your face, shoulder, and back. Your leg was tweaked and you had severe bruising with minor internal bleeding. Taking your hand in his own, Sergi brought your hand to his lips and stared at the monitor across from him.

You faded into and out of consciousness over the next three days. Sergi didn't sleep and barely ate. Leaving only once to go to the bathroom while the nurses had checked your IV, Sergi blew off training to sit at your bedside. In the evening of the third day after your crash, Marc and a few other Barcelona players came to visit.

"How is she?" Marc asked, placing a reassuring hand on Sergi's shoulder. Sergi glanced up at him with tired eyes.

"She's doing better," he replied stiffly. Some of the tubes had been taken out and you were slowly progressing.

"When was the last time you ate? Or slept?" Marc asked, looking at Sergi's growing beard, which looked scruffier than usual. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Sergi shrugged his shoulders. "Why don't we go down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat?"

"I'm not leaving until she wakes up," Sergi stated.

"The doctor's said that could be for another two—"

"—I'm not leaving until she wakes up," Sergi replied. Sighing, Marc pulled a bag out of his bag.

"Well, knowing you, I brought you some food anyways," Marc sighed, handing Sergi the pasta he had snuck from the cafeteria. Sergi glanced at the food until his stomach started to grumble. Thanking Marc, Sergi ate quietly. The heart monitor started to beep more frequently and Sergi and Marc stared at it as your displayed heart beat picked up. Turning their gaze over to you, Sergi locked eyes with your now open ones. Looking around the room, you once again focused on your boyfriend. Putting down his empty container, Sergi, who was mindful of the tubes, pulled you into a hug. You hugged him back as tears of relief wetted your hospital gown. Marc went to get the doctors as Sergi smiled down at you. "How do you feel?"

"Like Sleeping Beauty, who finally got a kiss from Prince Phillip," you replied, smiling. Leaning in, Sergi placed a kiss to your forehead before locking your lips in a quick kiss as Dr. Garcia walked into the hospital room.